


Pink Slips

by Strange and Intoxicating -rsa- (strangeandintoxicating)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: 5+1 Things, Also this is completely AU, But he can't seem to get fired., Ignis getting into trouble for doing things he definitely shouldn't be doing, Just a little bit., M/M, Noctis is still a prince, Rebellious Noctis and Ignis, So... he starts trying., and Ignis is still his advisor, but no trashcan men or angry gods, mentions of arranged marriage between Noctis and Luna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-21 11:44:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14284200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeandintoxicating/pseuds/Strange%20and%20Intoxicating%20-rsa-
Summary: Kinkmeme Fill.Ignis, being 1000% aware of all protocols, knows exactly when it's necessary for him to offer his resignation. Or when he should really get fired. But somehow his paperwork keeps getting misplaced, or his mistake gets downplayed, and instead, he gets bonus pay and paid vacation and awards and even a title at some point and eventually realizes that no one will ever let him resign,ever, because he's the only person who can Deal with Noctis.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is basically complete. I just need to check it over and then let you all see it.

Ignis was twelve years old the first time he crossed the little line in the sand between what was acceptable and unacceptable of an advisor to the crown prince. He knew it was too much the minute Noctis had looked up with those big blue eyes and had asked for something Ignis knew he didn't need. He hadn't been sleeping as much as he should have, the memory of Tenebrae burning its way through his closest friend's mind, but he promised that he would sleep better if Ignis could do this little thing for him. It was only those eyes and that promise that kept Ignis from digging in too deeply.

He wasn't really doing anything wrong. Omission wasn't really a lie, right?

If he didn't say anything, if he pretended as though the strange mewling coming from Noctis's toy chest was just a talking toy that got washed one too many times, then it wasn't really his problem. And if he didn't know for sure it meant that he wasn't breaking Section A's 14th clause.

Really. If he didn't know, then technically it was nothing.

But it seemed, unfortunately so, that Cor Leonis and King Regis did not _quite_ agree.

Ignis knew what the contract said. He knew them because he learned how to read the Lucian language by sitting in his room with a dictionary, pouring over every single word that he didn't know. He had the copy of his contract taped to the wall in his bedroom—the rules stark against once-white paper that had turned pale brown with time, little pencil markings over some of the more difficult words making it hard to read.

"Ignis... tell me. Did you aid my son in hiding a cat in his bedroom?" The king's voice was not harsh; it was cool like aloe vera on his skin after he had played outside for too long. It was soft, controlled, but clear.

Ignis couldn't lie, even if he wanted to.

"Your Majesty..." Ignis looked up from his hands twisting around at the bottom edge of his shirt. "I..."

He had broken Section A's 14th clause. Why had he thought that allowing Noctis to keep an animal in his room was okay? Why had he done it? And why had he thought they would get away with it?

"Answer the question, Ignis. Did you help him hide the caa- _chuuuu—"_

There were strict rules in place for a reason— the King's allergy being one of them.

"I'm so sorry, Your Majesty."

"Is that a yes or a no?"

Ignis closed his eyes, tight. "I... I didn't know for sure, but..." When Ignis opened them, he hoped that he wasn't crying. "I should have done something when he asked for tuna."

King Regis's eyebrows went up.

"Tuna, you say?"

Ignis nodded.

Noctis had asked him to bring tuna. He had asked for so much tuna, and so often... and Ignis knew that Noctis hated tuna. Absolutely _loathed_ it.  Whenever he saw it he would hide it in napkins or throw it into the potted plant near the dining room table. Everyone in the Citadel knew the rule—no tuna. Never tuna. 

But Ignis hadn't asked, hadn't questioned Noctis.

And the meowing... he hadn't asked about that, either.

 "Well, then." Regis wiped underneath his nose with his index finger, never looking away from Ignis. “Did he eat it?”

“Your Majesty?”

“Did he _eat_ the tuna?” 

Ignis nodded his head shortly. “A little… I didn’t want him to waste it.” He had only agreed to making more tuna fish sandwiches after watching Noctis hold his nose as he bit into his sandwich. If Ignis was going to turn the other way, that still meant Noctis needed to eat. And, well…

It was kind of funny to see how far Noctis was willing to go for the little mewling sound in his toy box.

"He.... ate the tuna. Tuna." King Regis leaned forward and put his hand on his table. " _Really?_ "

"Yes, Your Majesty. Every day since October."

"Are you absolutely certain?"

Ignis nodded again, this time longer. "I watched him, Your Majesty. I swear it."

"Hm. Interesting." Regis leaned back and turned to Cor Leonis. "He's been eating _tuna_ , Cor."

"Seems so." 

Ignis didn't ask any questions; he knew his place, and that place was certainly not asking questions of a King. Especially, Ignis knew, when said King was about to tell him to pack his bags. 

"It would be best if you go back to your room. Thank you for your honesty.”

"I'll.... I'll pack my... my... things." Ignis tried then to keep the small, choke sob from escaping, but this was real. This was it.

Everything that Ignis had worked for since he was five years old—it was all gone. They would train someone else, someone who Noctis didn't know and didn't trust for now, but it wouldn't take long for Noctis to forget him. He would forget the way Ignis helped him do his homework, helped make him lunch, helped him with the nightmares after the Marilith. Someone else would be baking Noctis dessert, but Noctis would never get the chance to have his special tarts. There was never going to be a correct recipe, because Ignis would be leaving.

All because of one little cat.

"Why would you be packing?" Regis's voice sounded genuinely perplexed., but Ignis knew that the King would have never called him here if not to... if not to get rid of him.

"Section A, C.... Clause 14. No animals in the Citadel.... and no.... no cats."

"Well." King Regis folded his hands in his lap and tilted his head to the side. "I guess it is a good thing, young Ignis, that you didn't break Section A's 14th Clause. How were you to know that Noctis wished to use his lunch for a stowaway cat?"

But he _had_ known about the cat. Maybe it wasn't spelled out for him, but Ignis had known from the very beginning. He had known every day since the damned thing took up residence in Noctis's toy chest. Even if he didn't know for sure, even if he said he didn't know, Ignis _knew_ he _knew_.

And Ignis _knew_ King Regis _knew_ , and King Regis had to have known that he _knew_ he _knew_.

"Your... Your Majesty."

Regis rubbed at his nose one last time before leaning forward. He looked both ways, almost as if he expected that someone would interrupt them, before saying, "That's all, Ignis. You can go to your room now. Or, maybe, it would be best for you to go tend to Noctis. I'm sure he's had a rather hard day."

"And... the cat?"

Regis sniffled. "Well, there's nothing really to be done, now. Noctis has grown rather attached. I am sure you are aware Ignis, but... when he grows attached to things... you know how he can be." It was hard for Noctis to connect, and the fact that the little mewling thing eating its fair share of the tuna Noctis despised was proof enough. "I think it is in my best interest to stay a respectable distance from his quarters for now. At least until we can figure out a way for Noctis to get his cake and eat it, too."

Almost as if on cue, Regis allowed himself to sneeze loud enough to rock the chair back.

Ignis didn't know what to say; he wasn't even sure if he _could_ speak. Instead, Ignis slowly pushed himself to his feet and made a low, deep bow. He hoped it would be enough for the King, though Ignis knew that nothing would really be able perfect enough for the man. But he tried his best because Ignis was waiting for him somewhere in the Citadel and it was Ignis's job to find him and the cat.

"Oh, and Ignis? Is there any chance that you would be able to, say, manage to get Noctis to eat some carrots?"

"Regis, don't ask the impossible. You're lucky he managed tuna. Don't push your luck."

But Ignis knew that he would do his best to make sure that Noctis managed to get some vegetables into Noctis, even if it wasn't carrots.

He did, after all, have the chance to do it.

"I'll try, Your Majesty."

"Good. See to it, my boy."


	2. Chapter 2

Famed art historian Count Prisen did not look amused in any way, shape, or form. That much, Ignis knew, was the truth. It was as stark as the frown drawn over his lips and the flaring of his nostrils. He had the arch of his brow taking up most of his face, but the rest—the rest was simply staring. No, not staring. _Glaring_ was certainly more of an apt word.

"—and it is clearly damaged! Absolutely destroyed. Three centuries worth of history all gone because one incompetent little monster decided to take a crayon to it! A priceless treasure! _Priceless_! It has been in the Lucian family's most esteemed care since 4th Century Shield Queen's reign! And this incorrigible boy is at fault for destroying it!"

Ignis could almost hear the exclamation marks in the man's voice. It was ruined, that was probably not so true, but damaged? Yeah. Definitely damaged. But Ignis? Incorrigible? Ignis was many things, but incorrigible was not one of them. And the painting was certainly not destroyed... it was just _special_. 

But Ignis knew better than to fight with the Eos-renowned art historian. The man had been working to curate the Lucian Dynasty's art for years, and it was only a waiting game for the man to eventually stumble upon the painting. The painting that, clear as day, was not as perfect as it was supposed to be.

Ignis could remember the exact day it had happened—nearly seven years before, when Noctis had gotten a little too happy with his crayons. It had been such a small drawing, just two stick figures, and Ignis had thought he had managed to cover it up. _Thought_ , of course, being the operative word in such a situation. He had _thought_ he managed to do a lot of things, but in the end...

"How are you sure it was Ignis?"

Thankfully it wouldn't be the King who would hand Ignis his death sentence. Instead, it was Clarus Amicitia and Cor Leonis, both of whom were staring at the art historian with a healthy amount of skepticism. The King was far too busy to deal with firing... firing the _help_. Or, at least, not firing the help when it did not directly pertain to Noctis. 

Ignis had thought he had gotten it all, thought that he had hidden every single inch of the priceless painting that Noctis had gotten ahold of, but it didn't seem as such. He hadn't noticed the black crayon that Noctis had used to draw Ignis's name in a big heart. Hells, it couldn't even be seen by the naked eye—it took specialty blacklights to see it. 

But it was there on the photographs, clear as day.

"Who else would have dared besmirch Bahamut's Ascension with—with—with such blasphemy!"

Cor looked to Clarus, who looked to Ignis, then back to Count Prisen.

Ignis didn't move, didn't breathe. This was his fault. Ignis knew it, and they knew it, too. Article C, section three, line six.

 _Any and all damage caused by the employee's charge is directly the responsibility of the employee._  

Count Prisen knew it wasn't Ignis, and so did Cor and Clarus.

That didn't mean it was any less Ignis's fault. He was supposed to watch Noctis, as he was taught. If there was an accident, if Noctis made a mistake, it was Ignis's duty to tell the King or one of his loyal retainers. If he tried to cover up Noctis's misdeeds, of course he would be punished.

They all knew that—loyalty to Noctis was important, but loyalty to the Crown, loyalty to the institution of the Kingdom of Lucis... that far more important. Or, at least, that was what Ignis had been taught before he had signed his name on the dotted line, before he had shaken Noctis's little hand within his own.

But Ignis never forgot the night where Noctis had come to him and told him of what he had done. It didn't matter then that Ignis would have been off scot-free if he went to the report it. What had mattered then was that Noctis wouldn't have been able to see the butterflies as they woke from their cocoons. He wouldn't have been able to go to the festival, wouldn't have been able to be free, if just for a few hours.

There were so very few traditions in Insomnia, and even fewer that Noctis had been able to enjoy with his mother before her death. The birth of the butterflies...

Ignis would have done it again without so much as blinking. That fact, that little, almost inconsequential fact, was why Ignis knew that he deserved to be fired. He was not supposed to do these kinds of things, even for Noctis. It didn't mean he didn't want to do them, and it certainly didn't mean that he didn't break and do them anyway. He was just fourteen, after all. But there were no excuses—even as a seven-year-old boy. 

"It was my fault." Ignis's breath wavered. He had gotten a temporary stay of execution, of the end of everything he knew, after what had happened with the cat. But the stay was finished, as so was he.

There wouldn't be a second chance.

"Will you explain what happened?"

Ignis shook his head and slowly moved to his feet. He hadn't been dismissed by Cor or Clarus, but Ignis couldn't sit any longer, not with the way his stomach was busy rocking itself up against his ribs. He reached up for his bow tie, though he couldn't loosen it no matter how hard he pulled. Ignis didn't panic, nor did he cry. He knew this was coming, had known since little Noctis had drawn those stick figures with bright green crayon. He had known since he had seen Count Prisen making his rounds through the Citadel. Seven years or no—it was still Ignis's responsibility.

Noctis would always be his responsibility.

"Count Prisen, I think it would be best if you stepped outside."

Ignis tried to say something, but he couldn't. His mouth was dry, his bow-tie like a noose around his neck. Who would have known the bow-ties could be so tight?

Ignis tried his best to not shuffle from one foot to the other; that was Noctis's bad habit, borne from the Marilith attack and his inability to stand for too long. Ignis was healthy and of sound mind. 

Someone of sound mind would have reported it immediately to the King, but... well, maybe his bolts and nuts weren't all quite as screwed in as he had always assumed they were.

Instead of saying something, saying anything, Count Prisen passed by without a word. The Crownsguard's desk was littered with the pictures of the painting, of the damage Noctis and, by extension, Ignis, had wrought against the painting of Bahamut. He had hated that painting before Noctis had desecrated it, but now he had a certain added layer of loathing to it.

"Ignis," Cor began as he reached forward and turned a few of the pictures around to face Ignis. They were there so that Ignis could look down at his mistakes, look down at his failures. "I wonder... Ignis, you're quite skilled with a paintbrush." Cor pointed at the bottom of one of the photographs. "Wouldn't you say so, Clarus?" 

Clarus hummed in agreement before leaning over, pointing at a small bush Ignis remembered for giving him quite a bit of trouble. "Considering your age at the time, I would have to concur. When was this?"

"Seven years ago, sir."

Clarus nodded sagely. "I would hope that you have kept up with your studies?"

This was the part where the Crownsguard recommended him to another field of work, another profession. Ignis knew what happened to painters, especially painters that did not have enough skill to hide a child's scribbling. They very well should have brought him out to the courtyard to be punished in public, rather than private.

Ignis only wished that he had been able to pick up on basic weaponry before today. If that had happened, at least Ignis would have been able to survive outside of Insomnia in the great, wide, open Lucian landscape. He remembered that Noctis had always wanted to be a hunter, but Ignis had always scoffed at his dreams. He wasn't scoffing anymore.

"Well, that's alright. I know that King Regis has been wanting Noctis to be a little more creative. He doesn't particularly enjoy his music lessons, and usually with tactile art..."

More of the paint ended up on the marble floor than the canvas. But Ignis had always loved the rare chance to paint with Noctis. It was in the way the little lines would scrunch on Noctis's forehead and how he would chew on his paintbrush handle. Thankfully he had always stayed with the watercolors, otherwise Ignis would have worried.  

"I'm sure that the King would be overjoyed to know that you'll take formal painting lessons with Noctis." Clarus tapped his nails on the desk once before turning back to Cor. "I would say Gladio or Iris could join, but... that would hardly end well. Neither of them have the finesse that Ignis has, and I am sure Noctis will be able to behave properly with such a skilled painter and friend by his side."

Ignis had to sit back down.

"Sir...?"

"Do you agree with the course of punishment, Cor?"

"Seems fair, but I doubt Ignis has any supplies. Right?"

Cor seemed to have taken Ignis's mouth hanging open as an answer.

"Then it's settled. I'll make a few calls. You'll be spending your Tuesday afternoons with the Crown Prince in painting lessons. I'm sure it will be a fitting punishment."

Punishment? What in any of that was a punishment? Spending more time with Noctis, getting to take classes for something he _enjoyed_?

 "Uh... Um... Sir?"

Clarus picked up one of the pictures and slid it into Ignis's lap. 

"For next time. Wouldn't want to make the same mistake again."

 


	3. Chapter 3

The third time it was only King Regis, but this time...

This time Noctis was there, too. 

Ignis knew from the moment he had opened the door and saw Noctis sitting in the chair, slumped half over with his hands balled into fists in his lap, that this was the day he would be fired. Ignis could understand the first few times he had been called to King Regis's office; they had been childhood mistakes. He had only bent the rules, but what he had done with Noctis... 

Yes. This was the day.

Ignis had not just broken the rules—he had shattered them.

"Ignis. Please have a seat."

Noctis's head turned so quick that Ignis was sure that Noctis would end up with whiplash. His eyes were panicked and his mouth was open as if he were about to say something that Ignis knew Noctis would regret later. That was the kind of boy Noctis was. He would regret it later because of course he would. He was about to lose the little freedom he had been granted when he had moved out into his own apartment.

Ignis remembered that day so fondly. Noctis had been so excited about having his own place, a place where he could just relax away from prying eyes. The Citadel was safe, but the apartment on Ramuh Boulevard was really home for Noctis. He may not have gotten to choose the apartment, but he had decorated it, had helped move in the boxed, had even caused the first small kitchen fire (one that Ignis had quickly put out without loss of life, limb, or property.)

It was everything a teenage boy could possibly want—a skyline that reached out across all of Insomnia, a warm bed with clean sheets, and a television and state of the art gaming console with every game under the sun. 

But Noctis had played all of those games, and he wanted that new game, the Assassin's game, that was released the Wednesday prior. Ignis could remember how excited Noctis was when Ignis drove him to one of the nearby video game shops at midnight so they could snag one of the first copies. Noctis had been all smiles—not the ones that he used whenever he was stuck at a royal function he knew he couldn't escape from. It was one of Noctis's special smiles, the kind that he only ever gave to Ignis. Not even Gladio or Prompto got those smiles.

It was one of the reasons why Ignis had called him in sick. 

Ignis knew better, he really did.

Amendment 22 of the contract was added after Noctis had moved out of the Citadel, but Ignis knew that just as well as he knew the rest.

_The employee must consult the Royal Physician for any and all ailments to their charge. Attendance issues to formal events, galas, classes, and school functions are prohibited without the consent of the Royal Physician._  

"Noctis was just telling me about a game that he has been playing. A game that you purchased for him?"

Ignis stood behind Noctis's chair, pushing his fingers into the back of the chair. It was hard for him to sit, particularly when he knew that he would only be standing again in a moment to bow and profusely apologize for breaking more rules. Rules were in place for a reason, and that was not for Ignis to flaunt and break whenever he wished. 

Also, sitting hurt.The Crownsguard training from this morning still burned in his lower back. If he sat down, he was pretty confident he wouldn’t be able to stand back up. "Yes, Your Majesty."

Ignis tried to look for anything that would give away King Regis's emotions, but he was nothing but contemplative. He didn't look particularly angry, but King Regis was not a man known for his temper, and that was more terrifying than screaming if Ignis was honest with himself.

If the King had been yelling, at least then Ignis would have known when to hide. 

No, Ignis told himself as he stood straight back, pushing his shoulders back. He could not be weak, not in front of Noctis. Or behind Noctis, but... semantics.

"Dad—c'mon. It wasn't a big deal! I swear Ignis didn't do anything wrong." 

Ignis did not interrupt Noctis, but it took everything in him not to reach out and lay a hand on Noctis's shoulder. He felt a surge through his heart as he looked down at Noctis. Even from behind, Ignis could tell that Noctis was distraught. He could almost imagine the pinched look to his cheeks, the pleading in his eyes.

"Noctis. Your school called me; they told me that you missed the last two days of class."

"It was my fault, sir. Please do not punish Noctis for my mistake."

It was his fault. When Noctis had been so engrossed in his game, so excited at every character and every level, Ignis just...

"I let him stay up well past a reasonable time, and in the morning..."

"You let him stay home from school. To play a video game."

"No! Dad, don't say it like that. Ignis just didn't want to wake me up. You know how hard it is for me to fall asleep." 

It was difficult for Noctis to fall into a true sleep, one that allowed him to completely rest and relax. This game, the old Lestallum-based RPG thing that Noctis had waited on line for over two hours, had given Noctis something that few other things had given him —a good night's sleep. 

"C'mon, dad. It was just two days of school. It was nothing. And you know for a fact that Ignis made me do all my homework!"

But Noctis would need to catch up with the classes he missed out of pure laziness on Ignis's part. He had wanted to send Noctis to school, but he just couldn't bear to rouse Noctis from his bed. Not when he had only gotten a handful of hours of sleep after playing the game until the sun began to glisten over the wall. 

Ignis couldn’t even blame Noctis— he hadn’t asked to stay home, but Ignis knew that he needed it. Noctis had been working so hard with his classes and passed his Calculus test with the highest grade in the class, despite the fact that Ignis had to stay with him every night until two in the morning to help him with his studying. He didn’t mind, though. He never minded.

He was lucky in that way; the Six had blessed him with a mind that was as sharp as a tack, and he picked up on everything and anything that was put before him. Math was like a puzzle, and Ignis was always good at puzzles. 

Noctis wasn’t so good at puzzles, but he was quick on his feet and knew when to ask for help.

He would be a great King, one day. 

A day, unfortunately, that Ignis wasn’t going to get to see. Were two days of sitting next to Noctis as he cocooned himself in his blankets worth his job? 

When he had been sitting on the couch watching the top of Noctis’s head poke out of his blankets, he hadn’t been thinking about his job. He had been thinking about how important it was for Noctis to just be a kid, to do things that kids did. In the future, when Noctis became King, he wouldn’t be able to just take a day off whenever he wanted so he could be lazy and play games all day while wearing his pajamas. 

“His Majesty is right, Noctis. I let you stay home to indulge in a game.” Ignis let go of the chair and bowed low, back screaming in protest. “I jeopardized Noctis’s education.” 

“Dude, no you didn’t. It was just two days. My education isn’t going to go up in smoke because I took two days off. Please, dad. You can't fire Iggy because he let me play hooky for a few days. ” 

“His Majesty is in the right to wish for my termination—” 

“Who said anything about firing? Ignis, I think you may be right. My son is jumping to rather rash conclusions— he is clearly exhausted.” Regis continued to look at Noctis, never letting his eyes off of his son. “And so are you.”

Ignis didn’t move from his bow, but his head perked up. “P...pardon?”

“You also seem to be showing signs of weariness. I think it is clear that the two of you have been working rather hard. You home room teacher told me that you are the top of your class, Noctis. That is, no doubt, in part to your hard work, Ignis.” 

“Yeah! Ignis’s been helping me with all of my homework and studying for this big test.” Noctis turned around and pushed Ignis’s shoulder. “Stop bowing.” 

“Your Majesty…?”

But the king smiled. “Yes, I heard from the Crownsguard that you have also been training. Daggers and polearms, correct?”

“Sir…” 

“My son is right, you know. You should stop bowing. I imagine it is quite painful. I saw the footage of your spar with my Glaive. It was quite a feet you managed—I’m certain Glaive Ulric’s tailbone will be smarting for a while yet.”

“It was merely—“

“You were quite impressive.” 

It was those words that helped Ignis pull himself into a standing position, ignoring the throbbing of his back. 

“It is rather rare for thereto be a Crownsguard who is as proficient with a weapon as he is with his mind. You are incredibly talented, but as with any blade, you can dull with time if not met with a whetstone.” King Regis eyed him critically for a moment before he grabbed his pen and signed two papers in front of him. He handed one to Noctis. “Son, you will not be attending your classes this week. You will make up your work when you come back.”  

“Huh?”

“What?”

“And this is for you, Ignis. You will also be receiving the week off from your duties. Consider this your whetstone.”

“Wait, you’re giving us a….holiday?”

King Regis gave a shrug, which on any other person would have been considered undignified. “Hardly a holiday. Rest and relaxation is required for any healthy young mind to grow. You both are still children, and just looking at you is giving me stress, so I cannot begin to fathom how you two must be feeling. Consider it less of a holiday and more of a mandated leave of absence.” 

But Ignis could see the smile pulling at King Regis’s mouth as the man handed Ignis the other paper. “Now, I have a rather busy morning, and I am sure there is a man with rather garish robes calling from your television set?”   
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this plot forming?

“You are aware that there is currently a formal inquiry being launched on your fitness to be Noctis’s advisor.”

Ignis nodded to Cor. He figured as much, considering the events that had transpired over the last several hours. He was part shocked, part terrified, and part befuddled as to why it had taken until now for there to be a formal inquiry opened on him. Considering how many rules Ignis had broken over the years, it was more than a little amazing that there weren’t at least ten open as it was.

Ignis knew that he was too easy on Noctis, that he went along with too many hare-brained schemes with his charge, and that anyone else would have been able to curb some of the Prince’s more eclectic … _tendencies_. 

Ever since he was a child, Ignis knew, Noctis tended to step over lines for a reason—loneliness, a need for his father’s time, and even sometimes in fear of his future. Ignis had learned how to lessen the impact of some of the worst breakdowns by knowing just when he was needed. He was good with Noctis; King Regis knew it, the Crownsguard knew it, and Ignis knew it, too.

But this…

“What I am more worried about, Ignis, is that you did not question why Noctis had the King’s car in the first place.” 

Cor looked… unreadable. It was always difficult for Ignis to read the Marshal, but particularly so now.

“Had I thought for a moment that Noctis had stolen the vehicle, I wouldn’t have…” Ignis trailed off. Ignis wasn’t in the position to lie. He wasn’t sure what he would have done. Maybe when he was younger, maybe he would have admonished Noctis and made him turn around. Maybe he would have driven Noctis straight to the Citadel himself since the boy still didn't have his driver’s license. Maybe he would have done a lot of things.

Maybe. There were a lot of maybes, a lot of potential branches for fate to weave itself, but all of those maybes were gone. 

All of those maybes were before the envoy from Tenebrae arrived the week before.

But what Ignis did instead was sit in the front seat of the King’s Regalia with the top down, listening to the sounds of the city fade into the sounds of the rolling waves cresting as they hit rock. It was just a small area along the Old Wall, barely traveled and secluded, but ever so beautiful in its hidden perfection. There were stories about how, in the past, magic had soaked through the Wall, casting off a soft pink glow. 

It was different, now. The magic may have been gone, but it was still a sight to behold. He had smiled when Noctis pulled his seat back, telling Ignis to do the same. They watched the sky blossom into a raging fire as the sun said its goodbyes. 

Ignis tried to calm his heart beating inside of his chest. Watching Noctis’s face in those few cherished moments were something that Ignis knew would stay with him. He could remember just how peaceful he looked, how calm and carefree. He looked like the seventeen-year-old boy he was, unburdened by a future that would no doubt take its toll on the young prince.

There, in the light of a sunset inferno, Noctis was just a boy, and Ignis was just a boy, too. He wasn’t Noctis’s caretaker, his advisor, or his employee. In those few minutes, Noctis was just his friend.

Ignis’s palms still felt the heat of Noctis’s hand against his. 

“Ignis.” An emotion crossed Cor’s face at that moment. “We may no longer be at war with Niflheim, but there are people who wish ill intent against the Lucis Caelum line. Considering the current political climate and the recent offer from Tenebrae, we must be on our guard. I know how difficult it can be for him, but Noctis is not just a normal boy; he needs to have an official Crownsguard member with him at all times. He cannot sneak away, let alone steal the King’s car to do so.”

It wasn’t even that far into the contract Ignis had signed. It was one of the three rules that were most important, the bedrock of everything that Ignis had promised to Noctis all those years ago—

_ The employee shall protect his charge’s physical, mental, and social well-being at any cost. _

_ A professional decorum must be kept with the employee’s charge at all times.  _

_ The employee must not interrupt or prevent Crownsguard services from any and all duties pertaining to the protection of his charge. _

“As you can imagine, the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive have been informed of the hole in their security. We will be fixing the patch so that such errors do not happen again.” Cor looked at Ignis seriously. “Would you care to explain what happened.” It wasn’t a question.

Ignis sighed. “Marshal, I have no idea who was supposed to be on duty when Noctis stole the car, and I do not know how Noctis was able to get from the Citadel’s garage to my apartment with the Regalia without alerting someone. I was not aware that he had stolen it until Glaive Ulric and Khara arrived on scene and escorted us back to the Citadel.”

Ignis wondered if Nyx and Pelna had seen the Prince’s hand in his own, though he was sure if they had, at least they had said nothing to Cor about it. Ignis was already going to be fired—at least they didn't add on the potential charges of…

It was best for Ignis to not think about what charges could have been leveled at him. All he had done was hold Noctis’s hand as they watched the stars. That was the depth of his crime. Other than, of course, allowing the crown prince of Lucis to steal a priceless vehicle and run off without an official Crownsguard member. Ignis was still only a junior member, at least until his birthday in a few weeks.

He would never become a Crownsguard, now.

“Fortunately, we know how Noctis was able to take the vehicle. It seems that Noctis… well. He walked in and requested the keys to the car from the Crownsguard attendant.”

“But he doesn’t have a license to dri—”

Cor gave him a look. “You _are_ well aware that Noctis doesn’t have his license. At least it seems you haven't forgotten.” 

Ignis bit back a response. He was in enough trouble as it was, and there was no point to add any further insult to injury. 

“Sir.”

“As I was saying,” Cor continued, “it seems as though the new Crownsguard did not question the Prince about his intentions or his credentials. It is a good thing he learned to drive, though as you mentioned…no license. And no formal training, either.”

Ignis kept eye contact with Cor, though what he really wanted to do was look away. 

“The King believes that it has something to do with all of those driving games. You would say that he is rather good at them, would you?”

No matter how Ignis answered the question, he knew there was no way that they wouldn’t both get into trouble.

“I didn’t question why he had His Majesty’s car because…”

“Because this was not the first time he had stolen it, was it?” Cor let out a breath. “And I would assume that it wasn’t the first time he had driven, either.”

“No, sir.”

“I didn’t think so.” 

Ignis couldn’t look at the man in front of him, imagining that the disappointment the man must have felt would be written all too clearly on his face. Ignis had put Noctis’s life at risk by teaching him how to drive, but even worse, he had kept the Crownsguard from being able to protect Noctis. Noctis would have survived a fender bender, yes, but he wouldn’t have survived an attack by assassins.

“Thank you for being honest with me, Ignis. I know it must not have been an easy choice.”

Ignis stared at the space above the Marshal’s head, at the map of Tenebrae. Ignis knew that he had some family there, on his mother’s side. Since the war had ended decades before, maybe it would be good to change his scenery. Maybe it would be okay there.

But Ignis knew that the Sylleblossoms would have haunted him with their perfect shade of blue. 

“Marshal… Sir.” Ignis looked into Cor’s eyes. There was some disappointment, but so much less than what he expected. 

“Yes, Ignis?” 

“Is Noctis all right?”

“His father is speaking with him.”

Ignis bit down on his lip. “Can you assure me that he will be all right? In the future. I—I know it isn’t my right to ask anything of you, but if you would kindly…” he exhaled. “Noctis hasn’t been himself as of late. I thought that I had it under control, that I was able to help him and keep the worst of the outbursts at bay. He doesn’t take well to changes or new expectations.”

“Ah. I’ll take a guess. Tenebrae?”

Ignis looked back to the map. “Yes, Sir.”

It was hard to think about the offer, hard to think anything with the potential for a new treaty between the Kingdoms of Tenebrae and Lucis. 

“Your mother was Tenebraen, wasn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“And your cousin is Lady Lunafreya—“

“Tenebraen bloodlines are tricky, sir. Lady Lunafreya and I are not cousins.”

Cor frowned. “Your mother was the child of an Oracle’s son.”

“Barely royalty in Tenebrae, sir. The line runs matriarchically.”

“Still considered royalty in Lucis,” Cor countered. “I am sure that any Lucian would agree.”

“I am my father’s son, Sir. I am Lucian in every respect.” Was this how they would rid themselves of him? He would rather be fired than to be stripped of his Lucian heritage. “I have served the Lucis Caelum family with great honor and pride. I am Lucian, sir. I _am_ —“ 

Ignis hadn’t even realized his voice rising until it cracked. 

“Calm yourself, Ignis. I wasn’t suggesting otherwise.”

But, to Ignis it _was_. The very suggestion that Ignis was anything other than Lucian made his blood boil and his nerves twitch.

“Perhaps Noctis stole the car because he feels as though he is losing control of his life. He hasn’t even had the opportunity to graduate from school and the King is already looking to marry him off,” Ignis rambled as he stared at the map, wishing that he could burn holes through it with his eyes. “Perhaps he wanted a moment of freedom before the rest of it is stripped away in the name of his people.”

“I’m sure the suggestion for marriage was rather hard for Noctis—“

“He will do it, make no mistake of that. He knows what is at stake, considering our strenuous relationship with Niflheim on the best of days. If his father asked him to, he would do it.” Ignis’s hand ached. “So I would imagine that his outburst had to do with accepting the changes that will be coming after graduation and his eighteenth birthday.”

Ignis knew that the young Lady Lunafreya had many potential suitors, but the King had always been quite fond of the future Oracle. Ignis had sat through enough meetings in regards to the expectations of what a royal marriage between Tenebrae and Lucis would mean for both kingdoms. It would open up new trade routes, allow business to flow, and inspire a certain amount of hope for the future of both kingdoms. It would also show a united front to Niflheim, a proverbial flexing of their muscles. 

Ignis knew that, but he also knew that Noctis deserved someone who made him happy, someone that Noctis chose. But being royalty meant that sometimes those chooses would be made by a council rather than his own heart.

“I believe you, Ignis.” The leather creaked as Cor stood from his chair. “Congratulations on your official acceptance into the Crownsguard.”

Ignis blinked. “Pardon?”

“King Regis has spoken with Noctis and the Crownsguard in question—there will be no disciplinary action taken against either of them. It seems Regis mentioned that Noctis needed to learn how to drive. Excellent job with taking the initiative to teach him. We appreciate your hard work as a member of the Crownsguard. You can report for official duty tomorrow morning at oh-nine-hundred hours, though it will only be to cross your t’s and dot your i’s. I spoke with Clarus Amicitia and we are both in agreement that your current regiment should remain the same—we think that any further changes would lead to undue stress.” 

“But—“ Ignis had been training to be in the Crownsguard, but he wasn’t sworn in. It wasn’t possible until the age of twenty, and acceptance into the Guard only happened once a year, in April.

And on top of that, he was supposed to be getting _fired_. 

“We will need your measurements for your official uniform. I imagine that your tailor has them on file?” 

Cor stood there with his hand still outstretched, continuing his conversation to open air. 

“But… the formal inquiry…”

Cor raised an eyebrow. “The car wasn’t stolen, and Noctis was not without a Guard. You were honest about your lessons to teach Noctis how to drive, and as far as we are aware, there were no traffic violations. There doesn’t seem to be much of a reason to continue a formal inquiry when there really isn’t anything to inquire about.”

“I—“

“Ignis. Stand up.”

Ignis stood, though he felt increasingly unsteady on his feet. 

“Shake my hand, accept your orders, and drive Prince Noctis back to his apartment. It’s two in the morning and I want to go home.”

Ignis did as he was told, though the hand that had earlier been entwined in Noctis’s shook when he reached out. Cor’s grip was firm, grounding Ignis to reality.

“Oh, one last thing.”

“Marshal?”

“No more joyrides in the Regalia.”

“Understood.”


	5. Chapter 5

"You directly disobeyed orders."

Ignis was only able to open his eyes enough to see that it was Clarus Amicitia standing at the foot of his hospital bed. The man looked regal in his full Crownsguard gear, his cloak billowing around him as he moved closer. Ignis couldn't quite see his face, but he could imagine the disappointed look that Clarus had long-ago mastered. Usually, it was aimed at foolish rookies who did stupid, overly-heroic things, or it was aimed at King Regis and the Marshal.

Considering the position Ignis was in and the aching wound in Ignis's shoulder and thigh, it was pretty clear the look fell firmly into the former category.

"You should have waited for backup. You should have ascertained the danger level before diving straight into that fight. You allowed your heart more control than your head, which is why the doctors had to remove several bullets from your body."

Ignis would have laughed if not for the pain that laced its way from his lungs straight up into his head the moment he took in a too-deep breath. There was nothing funny about this at all. Clarus was right, he was absolutely right. Ignis could have died. He could have failed. He could have ruined the entire opportunity for Lucis and Tenebrae to tie their families together. That would have been completely on him.

But...

"Noc...t..."

"He and Lady Lunafreya are well. A little shaken, but they will be fine." Clarus looked to the seat at Ignis's bedside and pulled it closer before settling himself down. "They're in the hospital. They were checked over several hours ago, but they refuse to leave without knowing you had woken. I know that Noctis has been asking for you—he tried to camp himself in here, but we thought it best for you to wake up and tell us your side of the story."

His side of the story...

"From what we have gathered, you and Gladiolus were tasked with chaperoning a formal courtship meeting between Lady Lunafreya and Noctis, agreed to by the Tenebraen envoy and the Kingsglaive."

Courtship meeting... It was the most terrible date that Ignis had ever had the misfortune to see with his own two eyes, though Gladio and Tredd Furia, the Kingsglaive on loan to protect Lady Lunafreya, had to share in the awkwardness. Lady Lunafreya was lovely and more than polite, and Noctis had tried his best, but... Ignis _knew_ Noctis. When they received the suggested plans from Lady Lunafreya's assistant, Noctis had looked down at the schedule and had just tightly nodded his head.

Lady Lunafreya's idea of a date would have been acceptable to most people who _weren't_ Noctis—a scenic picnic of fruit and vegetables with some simple bread and cheeses near the famous Insomnian Swan Lake. If they had the opportunity to plan their date themselves rather than through their assistants, Lady Lunafreya would have known how much Noctis hated fruit and cheese picnics. That, of course, was only eclipsed by his absolute _loathing_ of swans.

Ignis still remembered with a certain amount of humor the time when Noctis was bitten by said swans when he was about four years old. It was a memory that still made Ignis smile, even though he knew it shouldn't have.

But no, Lady Lunafreya had sat next to the lake and then proceeded to spend nearly an hour and a half chatting to Noctis as she fed the birds scraps of their picnic, the press nearby and happy to snap pictures like the vultures they were. Every inch the swans got closer the more delighted she seemed while Noctis flinched every time the swan so much as looked at him. Ignore was rather sure that the swans remembered just as clearly as Ignis did.

It was amazing that they were able to get through the park without Noctis crying, and then it was on to the second part of their date, which was the part Noctis had chosen.

Ignis had actually been the one to suggest the cat shelter that Noctis had volunteered at in high school; it would have looked excellent to the press and Ignis knew that Noctis loved the cats more than anything. And, Ignis knew, there was a very fluffy and fat cat by the name of Toy Box that Noctis had a certain attachment to. Anyone who would one day be queen needed to know Toy Box, and needed to love him just as much as Noctis did.

"You visited Swan Lake, and then the local cat shelter. But you didn't go inside."

"No, sir."

When they arrived at the cat shelter, Lady Lunafreya had smiled serenely and told Noctis that she was very much allergic to cats. It had baffled Ignis at the time; the assistant had smiled and added it to the calendar without so much as a whisper of any problem.

"She's.... allergic."

Clarus made some kind of noise that sounded like a cross between a snort and a cough. "I see."

Ignis had a feeling the marriage would have been doomed from the start, but that? That was the nail in the coffin that firmly cemented Ignis's opinion. But his opinion meant nothing, not when it wasn't his marriage. Ignis was merely the advisor, nothing more.

"Which is when Glaive Furia suggested—"

"The arcade."

If Lady Lunafreya couldn't be near cats, then at least she deserved to see a certain part of Noctis that was uniquely him. His love for cats and video games were two of the most important things about him. Yes, Noctis was incredibly intelligent and selfless, but he was also a young man whose hobbies were for him and no one else.

Lady Lunafreya enjoyed flower arranging and reading books. Noctis loved petting cats, playing video games, and snuggling up close next to Ignis to nap while Ignis ran his fingers through his hair.

Ignis was relatively confident that Lady Lunafreya would not have appreciated of the last hobby, which was why he had agreed with Tredd Furia's suggestion.

"Did you know that the arcade was involved in underground Niflheim activities?"

Ignis glared.

"I will take that as a no. This particular arcade seems to have been scoped out many times by the Guard and Glaive alike. I understand why you thought it a safe choice."

They had gone to that arcade a thousand times over the years, and never once had there been anything strange about it. Ignis had looked into the owners, the staff, even the regular patrons. He knew every entrance and every exit, as well as the basement and the air vents. It was a safe place, had always been a safe place.

"I can understand why you brought them there, Ignis, but I do not understand what happened with Glaive Lazarus."

Ignis grit his teeth together. "He... wasn't supposed to be there."

Luche Lazarus wasn't supposed to be at the arcade, just like Noctis, Lady Lunafreya, Gladiolus, Glaive Furia, and Ignis weren't supposed to be there. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing, but not completely unheard of. It was, after all, a place they had been to nearly every day since Noctis had started high school. It wasn't that far of a stretch for Noctis to bring his future date there, especially since Lady Lunafreya had been allergic to cats.

Everything had looked fine until it wasn't. Ignis had just managed to get a large bucket of coins for Noctis when he turned and saw a familiar face, one that shouldn't have been there, standing next to Furia.

"How did you know that Glaive Lazarus and Furia were the moles?"

Ignis could remember the way the men stared at Noctis. It was in the little sneer at the corner of their lips and the way their eyes were piercing through Noctis's back. It didn't take long to piece it together—Lady Lunafreya's unmentioned allergy to cats, the assistant who had smiled at the recommendation, the coincidence of one of the most elite members of the Kingsglaive being in the same place at the same time. And why had the Kingsglaive and the Tenebraen security forces allowed just two Crownsguard members and a single Kingsglaive to take the lead on the protection of the future King and Queen of Lucis?

To some, it would have merely been a coincidence. But to Ignis... it was almost a sixth sense.

"The way they were looking at Noct." Ignis tried to adjust himself in his bed, but no way he moved made him feel comfortable.

Ignis had been rash and undisciplined. He had rushed straight at the Glaives, throwing the bucket of coins at him while screaming that it was a trap. He had managed to give Gladio enough time to see the commotion and to grab Noctis and Lady Lunafreya, and had taken a bullet graze to the shoulder for his trouble. It hadn't even crossed his mind to call for backup or even pull out his daggers—the coins had been there, had been loud, and that was all Ignis really needed.

That should have been the end of the story, where Ignis had saved Noctis and his future bride in the nick of time, and they piled into Noctis's bullet-proof car and skidded off for the Citadel. It was true that Gladio had managed to pull Noctis and Lady Lunafreya into the car, but Ignis—

"Why did you stay?"

Ignis didn't know why he stayed. It could have been out of the need to keep the men in the building from leaving and hurting Noctis. It could have been something to do with the adrenaline running through his veins that was calling for their blood. It could have been a lot of things, but Ignis did not know what answer was the best.

Instead, Ignis said nothing at all.

"We found out that the assistant to Lady Lunafreya was working with the Empire. It seems she told the Tenebraen security forces that Lady Lunafreya was to have five Glaives with her at all times. The paperwork was signed off by Titus Drautos. We have him in custody, along with Tredd Furia. We believe there may be more Kingsglaive who were involved."

Traitors.... every last one of them. After all of the hard work they had done to keep the Empire at bay, to help their people, and still, there were those within their ranks who would turn on them.

"And... Lazarus?"

"He is rather.... incapacitated at the moment. The doctors have put him into a medically induced coma."

Ignis couldn't feel even the slightest tinge of remorse. He deserved everything Ignis had done.

"You did a number on him, Ignis. More than simply restraining him." There was something about his voice that made Ignis wary. There wasn't any way to excuse what he had done, no way to hide it, either. "You have been trained on hand to hand combat extensively. You are one of the most talented Crownsguard we have seen in many years. So, I have to ask this, Ignis. Why did you not restrain him as you were taught?"

"He... insinuated..." Ignis swallowed and allowed himself to calm down, focusing on anything that wasn't Clarus's face hanging above him. "He insinuated something... untoward."

"About you?"

"About Noctis and... myself."

"Ah. I see."

He hadn't just lost his temper, he had lost his mind. All Ignis could do was think of what could have happened to Noctis, about what they had planned for him, and any ounce of decency or education or even humanity was gone. He had gone feral, like a cat that had been forgotten for far too long, and Luche Lazarus had been the victim of that anger.

"I should be in jail."

"Hardly required."

"I almost killed someone," Ignis retorted. "I almost killed myself. I directly disobeyed orders. You should fire me."

Clarus leaned forward and pat him on his hand. "You protected your King, Ignis. You did not only protect Noctis, but you thwarted a plot to incapacitate or destroy the monarchies of two nations. You uncovered traitors within our government and military and did so at great risk to yourself. I am proud to call you one of my Crownsguard." Clarus gave a half-smile. "Regis and Cor were right about you—you're harder on yourself than need be. They also said that you would assume you would be fired."

"Because—"

"None of that. They said you would try and fight any praise, as well."

Ignis stopped himself from responding that he didn't deserve any praise, not when he had nearly gotten several people killed.

"Lady Lunafreya and the delegation from Tenebrae have formally requested an audience with you when you are up for it. They said that they would like to officially honor you with knighthood. Your action of valor moved Lady Lunafreya very much so."

"That's..."

"Yes, it is quite an honor. And of course, we would like to honor you as well. Noctis said that you deserved a golden set of measuring spoons or a paint-by-numbers copy of Bahamut's Ascension—Lady Lunafreya didn't quite seem to understand the comment, but Noctis assumed you would."

Ignis could only imagine Noctis standing in front of him with gold spoons in one hand and a canvas in the other.

Luche had been right. Ignis _was_ pathetic.

"Would... would you please..."

Clarus tapped his hand one last time before standing. "I'll send the Prince in, but it is important that you rest. You'll need to be at full strength for the wedding in a few weeks."

Wedding...

Ignis pulled in his feelings, his fears, his panic, as Clarus left the room with a click of the door. What he needed was to see Noctis, to be able to touch his face and his hand and to know that Noctis was okay. No matter what came tomorrow, he needed to be with Noctis now. Any that... that would just have to be enough.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter.  
> The 5 times Ignis thinks he's going to get fired.  
> And.  
> Uh.  
> The one time he...

“Ignis—dear boy, what can I do for you? It is good to see that you have sprung back to your usual self. No pain?”

Ignis shouldn’t have been at the Citadel, shouldn’t have been banging on the King’s door for an audience. After all of the years of purposely avoiding the room, fearful of the repercussions that would be wrought against him every time he was summoned, it was almost impossible for Ignis to believe that he had come of his own volition.

But Ignis knew, deep down where he had long ago hidden every single feeling about Noctis within his very soul, that if he didn’t do this now, if he stayed silent, then he would never be able to live with himself. If he didn’t try, if he stood back and let Noctis get married next week…

“My health has returned, but… that’s not why I am here, sir. There is a matter that I wish to discuss with you.”

King Regis looked at the two guards at his door before standing and gesturing to the seats across from his desk. “Make yourself comfortable. Glaive Altius, Ostium, if you would?”

The woman looked from King Regis back to Ignis before bowing her head and slowly backing out of the doors. The man seemed a little more reluctant but quickly followed his partner after a nod from the king. When the door finally clicked closed, Regis gestured to the chair once again. “I was hoping you would come to see me. It saves me the energy of asking you here and panicking you. Sit, please.” 

“I think it would be best if I did this standing, Your Majesty.”

King Regis pursed his lips and then, with a slight nod, helped himself to his feet. A rather pronounced gait was still somewhat prominent in his walk as he made his way to the nearby crystal shelf and liquor cabinet. Ignis watched with ever-increasing nerves as the man turned over two tumblers and reached for the glass decanter. He paused and looked at Ignis for a moment before he shook his head and reached over to a small, nearly hidden, cabinet door.

Ignis could barely see what was inside— it wasn’t a bottle, but a small barrel and spigot.

“Scotch?”

“I don't drink very much, Your Majesty.”

“Considering the conversation we’re about to have, I think you’ll want it. I think _I’ll_ want it.”

Ignis allowed himself to breathe through his nose, trying to control his nerves. “Scotch is fine, thank you.”

Regis made a slight hum as he filled both of the glasses, turning to hand one to Ignis. He accepted it as politely as he could and lifted it up to his nose, smelling the thick and cloying spices coming off the liquor in waves. It was almost strong enough to make Ignis wince as the smell all but burned the hair in his nose, but he said nothing.

He wondered if King Regis would think him less of a man for not being able to hold his alcohol, but he pushed that thought to the back of his mind.

“What should we drink to?” Ignis asked.

Regis looked thoughtful for a moment as he switched the glass between his hands before finally saying, “To Noctis and Lady Lunafreya.” He lifted up the glass but did not drink.

Neither did Ignis, though he lifted the tumbler to his mouth, letting the cold liquid touch his lips just barely before pulling back.

“That was barely a drink, Ignis. If I didn’t know better, I would assume you were unhappy about the wedding.”

“It isn’t my place to have opinions on Noctis’s coming nuptials, Your Majesty. I live to serve Noctis in any capacity. And as long as he is happy, then I am happy.” This wasn’t why Ignis was there. This wasn’t the answer he wanted to give. This wasn't what he had repeated to himself in the mirror the night before. 

Regis looked from the scotch in his hand to Ignis’s face, then back to the scotch. “You know, I was given this scotch for my wedding. It’s aged finely in its years, sitting in a barrel. Untouched.”

“Sir—“

“Please stop talking, Ignis.” Regis sighed as he sloshed the glass around for a moment before half leaning-half sitting on the corner of his desk, letting the glass hang from his fingers. “You have a terrible habit of saying what you _think_ you are supposed to say rather than what you _want_ to say. You’ve been the same since you were a boy.”

“Your Majesty—“

King Regis raised both his eyebrows, and Ignis immediately cowed, his shoulder slumping forward.

“You have always been a good boy, looking out for Noctis’s needs above your own.You have been a sound source of guidance for my wayward son.” Regis lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip. He sighed, closing his eyes. “This is quite good. Definitely was a good idea to open it.”

Ignis tried to take a sip, biting back the urge to smack his tongue against his teeth when the flavor hit him.

“Not for you, I take it?”

“It’s fine, sir.”

“It isn’t fine, Ignis. Let’s be frank—nothing about this is fine. And none of it seems very fair, does it?”

“Life as a future king is never fair. I understand that very well.”

Regis tipped his crystal tumbler toward Ignis. “And yet here you are, Ignis. Here you are. So please, say your peace so that we can end this dance. You came here for a reason, and now I know it isn’t for my liquor, no matter how fine it may be.”

Ignis took another sip of the scotch, hoping that the taste would help uncurl his tongue.

“The marriage between Noctis and Lady Lunafreya is a mistake.”

Regis said nothing, and once he began, Ignis could not stop his traitorous mouth from barreling forward.

“We both know that Noctis and Lady Lunafreya are incompatible. I am sure Lady Lunafreya is lovely. Everyone speaks so kindly of her, and I am sure she is a suitable match for any prince. Any _other_ prince. But she is allergic to cats, Your Majesty. She enjoys picnics by Swan Lake and going to the _opera_. The bloody _opera,_ Your Majesty. Even I don't like the opera. She’s organized and patient, yes, but she has spent her entire life sheltered in Tenebrae. She knows nothing of what Noctis likes, and Noctis…”

Ignis gave a half snort. “Noctis nearly burned down his apartment last month because he left a fork in his dinner and decided to put it in the microwave. And it isn’t as though he is stupid—he knows he isn’t supposed to, but he stayed up until all hours of the night looking over the reports that I gave him and he got tired, and he forgot that there is a fork in his half-eaten spaghetti until the smoke was billowing through the kitchen.

“He was the best in his class not because he was the smartest, but because he stayed up with me every night until he could complete every assignment in his sleep. He is a man who will do everything in his power to be better because he wants you to be proud of him.

“And I know this—Noctis will walk down the aisle next week, not because he wants to, but because _you_ want him to. He has spent his entire life making sure to never betray that ideal, Your Majesty. And I have been with him every step of the way.

“But... he doesn’t want to. He’ll do it for you, for his people, but not for himself. This isn’t what he wants. It isn’t _who_ he wants.”

Regis sat the glass down on his desk and lifted his hand to his mouth, wiping at his lips. “Is there anything else you would care to add?”

Ignis tightened his grip on the tumbler, feeling the coldness of the glass against his searing hands.

“I have always loved Noctis, and always will. And I am sure that you know he loves me, too.”

Regis blew out a breath through pursed lips. “You’re right. I have known… probably for longer than you have.”

Ignis faltered, nearly dropping the glass.

“Did you think that I didn’t know? Ignis, give me a little more credit than that. You wear your heart on your sleeve when it comes to my son. I knew the day you walked in here after the maid found that cat of his.”

“Toy Box?”

Regis cocked his head. “Is there another cat I should know about?”

“Just the one, sir.”

Regis shook his hand in front of him. “Either way—Ignis. Yes. I know. I’ve always known of your feelings for my son, and I know of his feelings for you. As I have always told you, when Noctis grows attached to things, it is impossible for him to part with them. So, I am going to do what is in my son’s best interest, Ignis, despite every diplomatic bone in my body telling me to do otherwise. I hope you can understand.”

Ignis watched as King Regis leaned a little further back toward his desk, snatching a yellowed series of papers held together with a large paperclip from the top of the pile.

Ignis would have known those papers anywhere.

“My contract?”

Regis gave a half frown. “You were only a boy when you signed these, Ignis. You have obeyed every rule—perhaps not to the letter or the clause, but certainly to the spirit of it. You have given yourself to my son in every way that I could have asked of you, and then more. And that was wrong of me, Ignis, because the only thing I truly wanted was for my son to have a friend, someone who was loyal to him, and to _only_ him—not his title or his station. Someone for him to trust unconditionally. Someone for him to love without question. I should have never had you sign the same contract an adult would have. It was unfair.”

Regis flipped through the yellowed papers, and Ignis found himself yearning to reach out and grab them from the King, damned the consequences.

Ignis could see it in his eyes, could see the words already forming on King Regis’s mouth. He could see the little pink slip stapled to the corner, fresh and stamped with the King’s official seal.

“Ignis, I’ll going to have to let you go—considering the circumstances, it would be the only way for you to—“

Ignis couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t. Blood was pounding in his ears and King Regis continued to talk, but Ignis could hear nothing else.

“No!” Ignis finally shouted, hearing his voice crack and tremble. “Please, Your Majesty—you can’t! Not after all of what I have been through, not after everything I have done. There is no rule that I cannot love Noctis in my heart. I will never act on it—please. I swear it. Please, I beg of you. _Please don’t take him from me_.”

Ignis wasn’t sure when he had dropped the glass of scotch, only that his knees were wet and his face was wet and the ground seemed so much closer than it had been before.

“Oh, gods. I didn’t explain this very well. I should have led with something else.” The King dropped down to his knees, grabbing Ignis’s shoulders. “I really should have led with something else. Cor and Clarus would have been much better at this than me. Oh, Ignis, you foolish boy. You have always jumped to the worst possible conclusions, but I can admit that this is my fault.”

“Please, _please_ don’t fire me—“

“Ignis, I very well can’t have an employee marry my son, can I?” Regis lifted Ignis’s chin. “Look at me. Look into my eyes and listen. I am not firing you because you have failed at anything. You loving my son is not a failure, it is a strength. It has always been your best strength. I am letting you go because it is time for you and Noctis to live outside of the shadow of a contract you signed as a child. You deserve to be happy, Ignis. I want you to be happy.”

“But…. the wedding—”

“I will handle the wedding, though I can only hope that Lady Lunafreya will not be too disappointed. From what I understand, she has been missing her home terribly. Something about her garden and her dogs, so I would imagine swaying her wouldn’t be too difficult.” Regis cupped both hands to Ignis’s cheeks. “And I am certain that a knighted member of the Oracle line would be a perfectly acceptable match for my son. And even if it wasn’t, you are right. You love my son, and my son loves you. And that is enough.”

“But…”

“None of that, Ignis. There is a young prince somewhere in this Citadel, and I am sure he is waiting for his knight to come rescue him from whatever terrible lunch my chefs have concocted.”

“Are you… are you certain?”

“I have been certain since you were five years old.”

Regis tried to help Ignis to his feet, but for a moment Ignis could only bury his nose into the King’s shoulder the same way he had when he was a little boy.

“I...Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Less with the formalities, Ignis. If you’re to be my son, then you can start by calling me Regis.”

“Of course… sir.”

Regis sighed. “Well, at least it wasn’t another ‘Your Majesty’, I’ll give you that. Now go to my son before he traumatizes any of my staff. Please. They should be in the garden.”

Ignis pushed himself to his feet, careful to not knock down the King on his way up. He looked at the man for another moment before Regis smiled.

“Off with you, Ignis. Go in the grace of the Gods and Kings future and past. You have my blessing. Go make my son happy.”

Ignis never ran so fast in his entire life. He ran through the halls as if at any moment Regis would come chasing after him, changing his mind. He ran as he never had before, because running was not befitting of an advisor, and decorum stated that nothing more than a brisk walk was acceptable.

But decorum be damned—he was free.

So, Ignis _ran_.

When Ignis found Noctis tucked away in the garden, he didn’t even care that there were gardeners and wedding planners milling about. He didn’t care that there were two Glaives watching Noctis like hawks, or that the entire kitchen’s staff carrying tray after tray of food for Noctis to grimace at stood only feet away.

Ignis had always feared the day he would be given the pink slip, but the moment he pulled Noctis up from his chair and allowed his hands to find their way through his dark hair as their lips met, the fear was gone.

Ignis pulled back, staring down at Noctis’s pink mouth before looking into shocked blue eyes. “Your father let me go.”

“Wha—“

Ignis kissed him again before pressing their foreheads together, savoring the heat of Noctis’s breath against his lips. Ignis gasped a breath, lungs burning. “He let me go, Noct. He let us go.”

“He—he did?”

“He did. And he said that you shouldn’t marry Lady Lunafreya, because she likes dogs and I like cats, and I’ve forged priceless paintings in your name, and I know I shouldn’t spoil you but I do it anyway—and I enjoy it. I want to keep you safe. It isn’t a chore for me. It isn’t my job. I do it because I love you, and—“

“If this is your idea of a proposal, Iggy, I gotta say… not exactly what I was expecting.”

Ignis laughed and pressed a kiss to Noctis’s forehead. “Did you expect flora and fauna? Romantic music and _swans_?”

“Nah." Noctis shook his head. "I just... I always dreamed it would be something like this. But I didn't... I didn't think...”

When Noctis crushed their mouths together again, Ignis allowed himself to drown in the moment. It didn’t matter that his knees were wet with twenty-five-year-old scotch or that he had lost his job, because what he gained was a life with the one he loved.

“There aren’t swans here, right?”

“No swans, I swear it.”

“Good. I love you.”

“And I you.”

And that?

That was something Ignis could live with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, man! This was a fun story to write, and it ended as sickeningly sweet as I hoped it would.
> 
> I hope you guys laughed, maybe cried a bit, but that you had fun!


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